Chapter 3 - THE ENVELOPE IN MY MOTHER’S HAND
I couldn't stop staring at the photograph.
My mother was alive.
Standing.
Walking.
Speaking to Victoria.
And the date printed beneath the image was yesterday.
I looked at Dominic.
He looked at the photograph for less than two seconds.
Then his expression became unreadable.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You knew Victoria was involved.”
“No.”
“Then why isn't she surprised?”
Dominic turned toward the dining room.
Victoria was gone.
The private entrance remained locked.
But she had disappeared.
Marco checked the hallway.
“She isn't here.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Find her.”
I stood.
“No.”
He turned.
“What?”
“I want to know why she was meeting my mother.”
“So do I.”
“You're not coming with me.”
“I didn't say I was.”
“You were about to.”
A faint expression crossed his face.
“You're starting to learn me.”
“I don't want to.”
“Fair.”
Marco returned.
“Her car is still outside.”
Dominic frowned.
“So she didn't leave.”
We searched the restaurant.
Nothing.
Then I noticed something beneath Victoria's booth.
A black envelope.
I picked it up.
Dominic immediately said—
“Don't open it.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because if someone wanted you to find it, there is probably a reason.”
I held the envelope tighter.
“Everything tonight has a reason.”
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Not of my mother.
Of a little girl.
Maybe four years old.
She stood beside a woman I recognized.
My mother.
But the child wasn't me.
On the back were four words.
SHE WASN'T YOUR FIRST CHILD.
I couldn't breathe.
Dominic took the photograph.
He stared at it.
Then turned it over.
There was a second line underneath.
ASK HER ABOUT ELEANOR.
“Who is Eleanor?” I asked.
Dominic didn't answer.
He was staring at the photograph.
“Dominic.”
He finally looked at me.
“Eleanor was my mother.”
I felt dizzy.
“What does your mother have to do with mine?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
His eyes hardened.
“I am not.”
“Then why do you look terrified?”
“Because my mother died twenty-seven years ago.”
I looked at the photograph again.
The child had a small silver bracelet around her wrist.
A bracelet with a heart-shaped charm.
I had seen it before.
In the wooden box at my mother's house.
I suddenly remembered something from childhood.
My mother sitting at the kitchen table.
Crying.
She had thought I was asleep.
She was holding that bracelet.
And whispering—
“I should have saved her.”
I had never understood what she meant.
Now I did.
Or thought I did.
“Who was the little girl?”
Dominic shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Marco entered.
“We found Victoria.”
“Where?”
“Private wine cellar.”
Dominic looked surprised.
“She was hiding?”
“Yes.”
“Bring her.”
Victoria entered five minutes later.
Her makeup was ruined.
Her expression was furious.
“You have no right to interrogate me.”
Dominic closed the door.
“You were meeting Mary Miller.”
Victoria's face changed.
“Who told you that?”
I stepped forward.
“This photograph.”
Victoria looked at it.
Then at me.
For the first time since I had met her, she looked afraid.
“You shouldn't have seen that.”
“Who is the girl?”
Victoria didn't answer.
Dominic stepped closer.
“Victoria.”
She looked at him.
“I was trying to protect her.”
“Protect who?”
“My husband.”
Dominic stared.
“From what?”
She swallowed.
“From his father.”
Silence.
Dominic's expression changed.
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
Victoria looked at me.
“Your mother worked for him.”
“My mother?”
“She wasn't a servant.”
“What was she?”
“A translator.”
My heart stopped.
Dominic looked at Victoria.
“For what?”
“Private negotiations.”
“Between whom?”
Victoria hesitated.
“Your father and several European banking families.”
The contract on the table suddenly made sense.
The languages.
The postwar agreement.
The holding company.
My mother.
But one question remained.
“Why would my mother fake her death?”
Victoria looked at me.
“Because she translated something she was never supposed to see.”
“What?”
“A list.”
“What list?”
“Names.”
“Whose names?”
“People who were supposed to disappear.”
The room became silent.
Dominic stared at Victoria.
“You knew this all along.”
“I knew part of it.”
“Why did you meet her yesterday?”
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
“Because she contacted me.”
“Why?”
“She said someone was looking for Casey.”
I froze.
“Me?”
Victoria nodded.
“Your mother believed someone had finally found you.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Who?”
Victoria's voice dropped.
“The person who ordered your mother's death.”
I couldn't speak.
Then Victoria added—
“He isn't dead.”
Dominic's phone rang.
Marco answered.
His face changed immediately.
“Boss.”
Dominic took the phone.
“What?”
Marco listened.
Then looked at me.
“There's been an incident at St. Catherine's.”
Dominic's voice became cold.
“What happened?”
“The medical records room burned.”
My stomach dropped.
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No.”
Dominic relaxed slightly.
Then Marco continued.
“But someone was inside before the fire.”
“Who?”
“We found a security camera image.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Send it.”
His phone vibrated.
He opened the image.
A man stood in the hallway.
Dark coat.
Gray hair.
Walking beside my mother.
Dominic stared.
I watched his face change.
“Who is he?”
He didn't answer.
“Dominic.”
May you like
He finally whispered—
“My father.”
